In love with this hand cream. I say it should be renamed Katniss, however, because when I put it on I want to kick ass and not brood. I understand there are other people named Bella and that it is also merely an adjective, but I don't think it fits a grapefruit and black pepper scent.

They're getting ready for Dia de los Muertos altars at work, so paper flowers are plentiful.

Now reading

The boy's costume gathering is near completion. Then comes the tailoring.

19 more weeks? If you say so.

Brand spankin' new SolarWing cover parking.

Indulging his daily ritual of saying goodbye to his tree at Nana's.

Get outta here, crows!

So, I made dinner and just as I was ready to serve, Ya Ya showed up with Peter Piper.

Someone on Etsy (Tuesday Mourning) made a print to commemorate my favorite Yo Gabba Gabba! song (performed by The Roots).

I'm going through a pretty hardcore cookbook-collecting phase right now.

You do me, I do you.

Today, my mom taught me how to eat a cupcake with less mess. Unwrap the treat, pull apart the bottom from the top, place bottom on top of frosting and you've got yourself a cupcake sandwich. My mother is ridiculously cute.

The night before, I finished It. Maybe I'll actually pay attention to that ever-mounting pile of cookbooks on the table.

Not before I visit the soon-to-be-closed Borders and add unnecessarily to the pile.

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If my child begged for bubbles before...

Nothing says mom and sister time like the timeless shenanigans of the Brady/Horton/DiMera clans.

Suddenly my whole family was in the back yard looking at the alleged space station ascending into the heavens. My iPhone captured something twinkly and moving. I can't really tell you I was looking at the right thing.